


Operation Roger Rogers

by InimitableBiscuit



Series: Operation Roger Rogers [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Brock Rumlow, Dom Jack Rollins, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, HYDRA Husbands, Hurt Jack Rollins, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Multi, PWP, Seduction in the name of HYDRA, Subspace, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrealistic Sex, blink and you'll miss Alexander Pierce, setting up my thinly veiled excuse for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InimitableBiscuit/pseuds/InimitableBiscuit
Summary: “Sir, I don’t understand”The order just couldn’t be real, was it April 1st? Pierce wasn’t known for his sense of humor as it was. Fuck.“It’s very simple Commander. You seduce Captain America and get some blackmail-able evidence as you do it.”
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow, Steve Rogers/Jack Rollins, Steve Rogers/Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Operation Roger Rogers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631671
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Operation Roger Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Um, this is. Just. Utter Trash.
> 
> Totally coming from my headlong tumble into the HYDRA husbands rabbit hole and a ridiculous title that refused to leave my brain.
> 
> *Jazz hands*

Brock stared aghast at his superior. 

“Sir, I don’t understand” 

The order just couldn’t be real, was it April 1st? Pierce wasn’t known for his sense of humor as it was. Fuck. 

“It’s very simple Commander. You seduce Captain America and get some blackmail-able evidence as you do it.” 

Pierce’s bright blue eyes twinkled and Brock suddenly scented danger, maybe he wouldn’t pull the ‘but I have a boyfriend’ card on him, he’d seen that twinkle just before an awful lot of horrifying orders over the years. 

He swallowed. 

“Can I notify Strike Team Alpha sir?” 

Pierce grinned suddenly, toothy like a shark 

“Sure if it’ll help you get more alone time in the locker room with him” 

The happy grandpa voice was at odds with his sociopathic smile. Brock nodded, keeping his face a carefully schooled blank. Locker room time was not the plan but he’d had to know if he could let Jack know that he’d be cheating on him. The knowing look on Pierce’s face said that he knew all too well what Brock had been thinking. At least _this_ time he was allowed to communicate with his partner; the last time, a three week radio silent op in Honduras with Strike Team Delta had nearly put an end to their relationship; Jack had been convinced that Brock had died and failed to put him down as NoK. The row had been astronomical and had culminated in Brock sitting on their apartment floor holding onto Jack tightly as he sobbed surrounded by a sea of broken crockery. There were still dents in the hardwood flooring of their kitchen four years later. 

Ugh, it may still come to that if he doesn’t tell Jack _immediately_ about the mission and make it clear that it’s on Pierce’s orders. Jack was possessive at the best of times and Brock _may_ have made _some_ appreciative comments as to the hotness of Cap’s ass to rile him up (Brock was not a saint and the enraged Jack jealousy sex was _epic_ ) 

In what felt like no time at all he found himself outside the door to training hall five where the team were booked in for sparring practice today. Time to face the music. 

* 

Explaining the mission had not gone down well with Jack at all. He’d called Brock “Agent Rumlow”, told him to go fuck himself and disappeared into to warren that was the Triskelion. Brock sighed then decided that the optimal thing to do would be to work off the stress (and enact Part One of The Plan). He changed into his training wear and headed off to the usual boxing gym that Rogers would be at after sparring so that he could beat a punch bag/rookie agent into submission. 

Sure enough the star spangled man with a plan was already there beating the ever loving shit out of his second punch bag, the first sagging sadly against the wall. Watching the smooth play of muscles on muscles (because, day-am Cap) for a moment Brock suddenly felt more than a little apprehension. He twitched in surprise at Roger’s voice. 

“You gonna join me or are you just enjoying the view?” 

Well. Brock knew how to handle a challenge like that; he stripped off his shirt and headed to the station be the door to wrap his hands deliberately. 

“A man can’t do both?” he inquired lightly, turning to find Roger’s still hitting the bag but undeniably watching him. Brock stretched, arms above his head, back arched in the way that drove Jack crazy. Rogers pursed his lips appreciatively, leaning to rest on the bag, Brock preened. 

“Okay, yeah I’m interested but I thought you had a thing with Rollins” said Cap. 

A thing? A _thing_? It was six years of Brock’s life that he was potentially pouring down the drain for Hydra, or, more likely, for Alexander fucking Pierce’s political games. He composed himself by walking over to the free bag nearest Rogers and shrugged almost casually. 

“Doesn’t seem to be a thing right now” 

He despised the audible hurt in his voice and gave the bag a couple of vicious jabs to cover up before falling into his usual warm-up rhythm and ignored the blond Adonis next to him. 

Another hour of silence passed, Rogers either respecting that Brock was done for conversation or lost in some shit in his own head. Brock had moved from the bag to sit ups to practising his muay thai on the wavemaster. Twenty minutes into that and he’d forgotten his mission; he was ugly sweating, huge drops falling from the tip of his nose down onto the mats beneath him. He gradually became aware of Rogers watching, arms folded under his huge tits, smirking. Brock was kind of thankful that his face was already so red that he couldn’t possibly blush. He stopped battling and smirked right back at Rogers. 

“You gonna join me or are you just admiring the view Rogers?” 

He was kind of proud that his voice was steady as he threw Roger’s words back at him. The man simply raised an eyebrow as he flung a towel at Brock’s head. 

“Thanks Cap” 

Brock gratefully caught it and started to rub his head and shoulders dry. 

“It’s _Steve_ and I’m definitely planning on both when we hit the showers” 

Oh fuck. Brock dropped his towel in shock. That had not been like the earlier flirting, it was a blatant come on, not just a line but a _line_. I mean, sure Romanov had told him that Rogers was a little shit but he hadn’t seen much of that outside sparring, Brock had never dreamed that he’d be on the level of Barton. Great, somehow this mission was haunting him with flashbacks to Honduras. He sucked it up. The quicker he completed Operation Roger Rogers, the quicker he could be begging Jack for forgiveness because fuck you Pierce. He deliberately did the ol’ bend’n’snap to retrieve the towel from the floor and finally managed to smile. 

“Sure thing _Steve_ , let’s go” 

The pleased little grin that lit Rogers’ face was ridiculously seductive, Brock was a little concerned that he might not want to let go when the mission was over. He carefully kept a neutral expression as he lead the way out, pausing only to dump the wrappings and collect his shirt. 

They walked shoulder to shoulder, brushing against each other as they headed toward the locker room. To Brock the tension was electric and he got wound tighter and tighter with every brush of Rogers’ bicep against his own. By the time they got through the door Brock felt like he was going to spontaneously combust, from excitement or panic he didn’t know which. He jerkily stripped off his shorts and jock, leaving them in a pile on top of his shirt. 

“I’ll see you in there” he said, refusing to look back at Rogers as he walked towards his usual cubicle (second from the left), noticing as he did so that the last shower on the right was still in use. Even as he walked into the open fronted cubicle, the other shower switched off. Brock fervently hoped that whoever it was would skedaddle; he was not an exhibitionist when it came to his love life, he and Jack had not so much as held hands in public in the four years since they’d got their heads out of their asses and started staying in bed together after fucking. 

He shook his head to clear the gloomy thoughts as he started his shower and stuck it under the flow. A shadow fell across his back. 

“You took your...” he started. 

“I can’t let you go to _him_ without a fight” hissed Jack, pushing right up against Brock’s back and bracketing him with huge hands pressed to the tiled wall on either side of Brock’s head. He sighed and turned around in the tiny space, coming face to throat with Jack. Looking up Brock could see that Jack had been crying in the shower, his face was swollen and his eyes bloodshot. 

“Jackie” he tried again but Jack was not at home to Mr Reasonable ~~when had he ever been?~~

“No. Fuck the mission. He can’t make you do this” Jack’s voice was hoarse from weeping. 

“Oh babe” Brock sighed, leaning his head against Jack’s shoulder and out of the flow of water. 

“You know Pierce’ll take it as an excuse to put one of us down” 

Jack ignored Brock’s very reasonable and completely truthful statement damnit! He dropped his face to Brock’s and kissed him desperately. Brock couldn’t help but respond automatically, winding his legs around the other’s hips as his let Jack lift him and press him into the tiles. And oh, shit, it was perfect. Brock forgot everything but Jack’s mouth on his, their hard dicks intermittently rubbing together as the warm water ran over their bodies. It was hard to breathe but it was all he ever wanted. 

The sound of a throat being cleared close by brought him rudely back to the real world. The sudden stilling and renewal of tension throughout Jack’s body let Brock know that his partner had been just as caught up in the kiss. Rogers’ voice, because _of fucking course_ , was amused. 

“Y’know Rollins, if you’re trying to put me off you’re going the wrong way about it.” 

Brock was confused. Had Rogers really just implied _that_? Brock’s libido was apparently not confused, his erection jumping fully back to attention against Jacks mostly wilted dick. Jack growled in response. 

“What. The. Fuck. Rogers?” 

“Mmm, exactly” came the mirthful reply. 

Oh crap, Brock needed to move the conversation along before Jack unceremoniously dropped him and attempted to beat the shit out of Captain America on camera in the middle of the Strike locker room. 

“Be clear Rogers” he said curtly ( _possibly_ somewhat breathily due to Jack’s abs rubbing against his dick). 

“I have a solution to all our problems. You succeed your mission therefore neither of you die. Jack gets to keep you. I get what I want. And it’s _Steve_ ” 

The smirk in Rogers’ voice was simultaneously arousing and infuriating. Brock was about to give him a piece of his mind about vague-ing when Jack spoke up hoarsely. 

“Elaborate” 

Rogers, _Steve_ leaned forward against Jack’s back, Brock could feel Steve’s abs pressing against his interlocked ankles and almost whimpered embarrassingly. 

“I want both of you together. Now. Tonight. For as long as I can keep you for. I want to have you as my lieutenants once I’ve taken down Pierce. Right now, I want to fuck Jack’s thighs while I jerk you both off.” 

By the end of the speech Jack had his head tilted back towards Steve’s mouth, his eyes closed in concentration. Brock watched him a moment then spotted Steve tipping his head up to whisper into Jack’s ear. Brock leaned forward to hear better. Steve whispered, barely audible over the running water 

“Hail Hydra” 

Jack’s eyes snapped open, staring straight into Brock’s, mirroring the shock Brock was sure must be visible on his own face. What the actual fuck? Did that mean they could escape Pierce? That old dude was crazy and power mad. It was too much to hope for. Brock opened his mouth to deny it but Jack beat him to the punch 

“Yeah, sounds good” 

_What?_ Brock was sure Jack had finally cracked. Steve grinned ferally at him over Jack’s shoulder. 

“You good for it Brock?” he asked, mouthing at Jack’s trapezius. 

Jack shuddered, the movement pressing Brock harder into the cold tile. He grunted, rocking his dick against Jack’s rapidly returning erection. 

“Y...yeah” 

Steve’s predatory smile widened and he made quick work of maneuvering the three of them into a position that would work. Brock found himself at an angle, shoulders against the wall, legs scooped over Jack’s forearms as his big hands supported Brock’s ass. Their dicks nestled together so closely that Brock could feel Jack’s balls rubbing against his own and _holy fuck_ was that Roger’s dick against his taint?! If it was, Brock wasn’t sure that his ass was going to survive later. 

Steve started thrusting between Jack’s thighs, causing all of them to moan. Brock was sure what was hotter; the words falling from Steve’s lips because, wow, there was dirty talk and then there was Captain Rogers’ A-grade filth; or the way his dick kept nudging Brock’s ass hole. He felt like he’d die from the tease until Steve’s hand snaked through the tangle of arms, legs and hips to grasp both Brock’s and Jack’s dicks together. Jack almost collapsed against Brock as he made a high, keening sound. Cap held on with his other arm wrapped firmly around Jack’s trim waist, managing to keep everyone upright as he kept right on thrusting. 

“Get on with it Rogers” growled Brock, his neck was not exactly at the most comfortable angle against the cold tiles at that moment and Rogers was a goddamn pricktease. 

The good captain (bad captain?) paused in his movements and raised a single eyebrow, Brock hastily amended his demand 

“Steve, _please_ ” 

The hand started moving, a tight, twisting pattern that squeezed Brock’s dick against Jack’s. They groaned in tandem as Steve started talking again, his speech pattern deteriorating beautifully as he spoke. 

“Mmm, gonna get you both off and then put Brock on his knees so I can fuck his mouth. Jack you’re gonna tell him what to do and tell me huh-ow...he likes. To suck cock. And then I’m gonna come on his face.” 

Shit, Brock was suddenly almost right the fuck there. How did Steve even know? Only Jack knew that Brock’s best way to relax was to hit subspace as dirtily as possible. No Hydra, no Strike debriefs, no double life, just Jack helping him let go and float in that calm, warm place. Apparently Captain America had good observation powers, who knew? 

Steve’s words had obviously affected Jack just as much because he came noisily, warm droplets landing briefly on Brock’s belly before being washed away in the still flowing water. He followed Jack over a couple of pulls later. This was beautiful, he was floating from the high of his orgasm even as he was removed from Jack’s arms and placed on the wet floor. He kept his blissed-out eyes shut as he listened to Steve’s deep rumble. 

“You still okay with this Brock?” 

He nodded in reply, still beyond words while he lazed on fluffy white clouds in his own mind. Jack’s sudden chuckle intruded on the bliss. 

“Babe, you gotta answer him” 

Brock swallowed, opened his mouth to speak in a wrecked voice. 

“Yeah, I’m good. C’mon Steve.” 

And then Steve’s dick was _right there_ , Brock could _smell_ it, a noticeable presence comprised of warmth, a little bit of spunk and a definitive but intangible _Steveness_. He opened his eyes, did a double-take and tried to focus properly on what was in front of him without going cross-eyed. Holy fuckin’ moly, how did Rogers get _that_ into his stealth suit? The man was uncut but the glorious head was already on display, his foreskin neatly tucked back. Precome glistened at the slit and even though Brock was slightly worried about whether he would be able to fit Steve in anywhere, he swayed towards it, drawn by an irresistible need to _taste_. Suddenly Jack’s voice rang from behind him.

“Hands behind your back, wrists clasped” 

Brock immediately knelt upright again, automatically obeying the clear order. He had forgotten that this was Jack’s scene. Brock took a deep breath and settled himself, Jack was here, Jack was in charge, he was safe and he could let go. Brock let go, allowing Jack’s words to pull his body obediently along while his mind floated back in the clouds. 

He tasted, licked, mouthed and nuzzled all over the huge length in front of him from the dark blond curls around the base to the damp slit on the glans. The quiet sounds Steve made as Brock fondled his balls to Jack’s exact specification all led to Brock sinking into pliant bliss. 

As always, Jack noticed the exact moment that Brock was ready. 

Brock opened his mouth on demand and, dreamlike, accepted Steve’s dick entering slowly. Steve held Brock’s head steady with one broad palm against his cheek, slender artist’s fingers curving gently around the base of his skull. The other hand was out over him for no reason Brock could tell until he felt Jack’s large feet straddling his knees and strong thighs against his shoulder blades. 

He moaned around Steve’s huge dick; the feeling of being pressed between two men was just perfect. Brock was so far under that his usual bite reflex had disappeared and he could just kneel there taking Steve’s dick at a glacial pace until his nose touched the man’s groin. 

_“Look at him”_

That was Steve, voice wavering breathlessly. 

“Sure looks pretty on his knees between us” 

There was Jack sounding worshipful right over his head. There were soft, slick sounds and Brock whimpered, opening his eyes to see the two men kissing over him. He tried to make a pleading noise but choked instead as Steve rocked his hips forward. 

Jack and Steve broke apart breathing heavily. Brock swallowed convulsively around the dick in his throat and Steve grunted, huge hands twitching against the sides of Brock’s head. His eyes widening as he looked down at Brock whose oxygen deprivation must really have been showing because Steve immediately attempted to remove his dick. Brock brutally upped the suction in response, breathing deeply through his nose. 

“Nuh-uh” chuckled Jack to Steve “He just needs to take a breath every now an’ then” 

Steve obviously relaxed again, guiding his dick back down Brock’s throat. Brock blanked out, time passed but he was unaware of it. He vaguely registered staccato bursts of the outside world: swallowing, praise, a car trip curled in the back of an SUV whilst held by strong arms. The blissful clouds were there and he was warm and safe and everything was good. 


End file.
